


A Little Bit of Coffee

by AcidGreenFlames



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fellswap (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Fellswap Gold (Undertale), Domestic Fluff, Fellswap Papyrus (Undertale) - Freeform, Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29431464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcidGreenFlames/pseuds/AcidGreenFlames
Summary: Working as a barista was just a job to get you through college.  Your favorite customer helps your days be full of joy.
Relationships: Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 65





	A Little Bit of Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Lovelies, 
> 
> I hope you are all well, and enjoying your days. Also, Happy Valentines Day! 
> 
> This is dedicated to one of my buddies as part of a gift exchange. Happy Valentines Day Aster, I hope you have a good one :)
> 
> This was my first attempt at a Character/Reader story, so I hope you enjoy :)

He comes in every morning at exactly 8:35 on the dot.

He’s more consistent then most of your co-workers were half the time, and you could set your watch to him showing up at exactly 8:35am, just after the morning rush when you and your team were soaking in the post rush high.

Wiping your hands on the front of your apron, you check your watch and try not to feel the swell of excitement at the time. 8:30am blinks up from your wrist, and your quick to refill your station, in preparation of his arrival. You try to smooth down your hair from its post rush wildness, in an attempt to fix your standard work hair, but you know there’s not a whole lot to do. Sometimes there’s just no saving it, and sometimes it just be like that.

But hey, there was an attempt made.

The time ticks by, and you feel the giddy excitement that you haven’t felt in a very long time. Its like memories of Christmas morning, that excitement and giddy anticipation of him coming in.

You’re ready to roll at 8:33am, and you take a breath, thinking back to the last six months.

You had moved to Ebott to attend the University last year, they had the best law program in the country, and you were starting there as a second-year law student this semester. You had big plans, you wanted to make a difference in the world, you wanted to make the world a _better_ place and what better way then by working in law.

The barista job was to help get your through school, that was it. You had figured that going to school in the mountains would have been peaceful, relaxing, but, like the rest of the world, you had been floored when monsters had crawled their way out from underground. They had been led by a determined little kid with Band-Aids on their nose, and kindness in their soul.

Yet, without that plucky little kid, you’d never had met your best customer in the entire world.

Thinking back to when you had first met him, the very first monster that had come into your coffee shop, you smile fondly at the memory. How he had been so shy, hesitant even to come inside, his shoulders drawn up tight around his skull, and he picked nervously at his fingers as he toed his way inside.

The long sleeve t-shirt declared him a _shy guy_ , and you had been so certain that was a throw back to Mario, that you had commented on how much you loved his shirt. The scalding yellow blush that had danced so prettily across his cheeks had made you smile, and you quickly discovered that it was in fact a magically enchanted shirt, like the worlds best mood ring to help communicate his feelings.

That was the coolest thing ever, and you had been _delighted_ by the fact that, doing everything in your power to change the shirt from _shy guy_ to _happy dude._

He had come in then, shy and uncertain, and a few of your co-workers had backed off in fear when he walked in, a tall thin, literal skeleton had set most of them on edge at the time. Yet, you didn’t see what they did, you saw an uncertain customer in a new scary place, and you could _relate_.

So, you did the _kind_ thing then, had smiled brightly with your milliwatt smile and asked him how you could help him.

And that was it, the start of your relationship.

It had taken him another two trips into your store before he worked up the courage to tell you his name, in a hastily written note that read _Hello. My name is Papyrus, but my friends call me Coffee._

You had smiled then, bright and wide, held out your hand to gently take his, telling him your name. Thinking back, your pretty certain that was the start of your friendship with him, and started your interest in monster rights and laws.

There weren’t enough protections for them, that much you knew, and that only drove you _more_ to graduate. You wanted the chance to do some good in the world, you wanted to do good for Coffee and the monsters like him.

Come hell or high water, you were going to change the world.

The bell to the front door chiming distracts you from the thoughts of righting wrongs around the world, and you grin as your favorite customer shyly comes in.

Coffee’s hood is pulled up tight over his skull, and his shirt declares he’s a _shy guy_ today, and you practically bounce on your toes in sheer giddy excitement at seeing him. Your heart feels _light_ to see him, filled with soft emotion and affection, and your day has just _improved_ because he’s here.

Ignoring your coworkers, you bounce to the register with a grin, “Morning Coffee.” Your greeting is bright and happy, your smile wide as your heart fills with joy.

He looks up at you, and your soft little heart seems to find something else to swoon at and pulls even more affection from that deep well you have for him. He slowly makes his way to you, his sharp tooth mouth pulling into a crooked, shy grin as he gives you a little wave. The gold metal of his braces glint in the bright white light of the shop, and even that, somehow, is _adorable._

Shuffling to your register, he’s quick to pull out a note pad and a hot pink pen, scribbling a little note that he rips from the pad to hand to you. You take it with a smile, looking down to his curly, neat writing.

_Good Morning. How’s your morning?_ Greets back at you, and you smile when you see the ‘I’ has a little heart at the top of it, and it makes you feel _special._

Placing the note down on the counter, your hand flattened it out. You’ve kept most of his notes, each one a little special interaction between you, and when your feeling sad or stressed, you like to read them again, and remind yourself that, someone out there cares a whole lot about you.

“Mornings good.” You grin, “Got a new record of them most complicated coffee we can make. I did it in four in a half minutes.” You tell him with pride, and he grins back at you with a quick thumbs up.

He scribbles another note, passing it to you, _Of course you did! You’re awesome._

The notes makes you flush, and you carefully flatten it with the first, “Nah.” You tell him with a smile, “Its just practice.”

Coffee gives you a _look,_ a stubborn one that tells you he’s about to tell you your being ridiculous and of course you’re amazing. It’s a conversation you’ve had before, and it makes you a flustered mess every time, and your quick to head that off at the pass, “So what will it be today ‘Fee?”

Squinting at you, he seems to let it go and you know you only get to call him ‘Fee, because your special. You’re his friend, and that means you get to shorten his nickname.

You take his order, again his neat curly writing making you grin as he look down at his request of _Something sugary._

Smiling, you nod. “You got it.” You ring him up, applying your discount because, what are friends for if not to help each other get cheap coffee, nodding for him to follow you down to the other end of the counter.

He follows along, and you make small talk. You tell him about your day, and school. He tells you about his own day, how his brother is doing at the embassy, and the struggles they are still facing. You nod along reading his notes quickly, and don’t doubt that Wine was struggling with the human government.

Yet, you didn’t worry about Coffee’s brother. You’d met him once, and only once, and the impression he left you with was, he was the kind of man who would _disappear_ anyone who hurt his brother.

So, you knew if anyone could handle the government, it was Wine.

Glancing up, you suddenly frown at your friend’s sudden hesitation, and your eyes flick down to his shirt. The words suddenly boldly declare him a _Nervous Guy!_ And that makes your brow furrow in confusion, “You okay Coffee?” you ask him gently, your head titling as you finish his drink.

He nods, nervously scratching at his fingers and pulling at his gloves. He glances up, then down, and up again before he takes a deep breath. He scribbles something on his note pad, and your heart feels heavy. Like somethings wrong, and it feels like an eternity before he rips the page out to hand over to you.

You take the paper quietly, looking down to read it, giving it your full attention, _So. Would you like to go see a movie sometime?_

You blink down at the page, and your heart fills with soft, hesitant _hope._

“Like. Like a date?” the uncertain question makes him snug down into his hoodie, and he gives a noncommittal shrug.

Looking up at him you feel your heart soar, and a burst of excitement fills your heart, “Yes!” you blurt in your sheer giddy delight, your eyes widening and sparkle.

Your sudden burst of excitement make Coffee jump in surprise, his own sockets widening, and your quick to reel in your exuberance, “I mean. Yes. Yeah, that would be. I would like that, a lot.”

It’s a poor save, and from across the bar, your co-worker laughs, the jerk.

You ignore it, focusing on Coffee, watching how he lights up at your words.

Clearing your throat, you pass his cup to him, and try to look cool, “So. There’s a new action movie that’s just come out. We could see that. Friday? At seven?” you offer hesitantly.

A dozen micro expressions cross his face before landing on decidedly happy. Grinning, Coffee quickly scribbles something down on this note pad, handing the note to you, _Sounds great. I’ll meet you here?_

You smile, your heart filled with joy, “It’s a date.” You promise, and you suddenly are filled with giddy anticipation as your week just got better.

Coffee nods, taking his cup, beaming bright and delighted. He waves goodbye with the promise to see you tomorrow, and you manage to wait for the front door to jingle and close behind him before you drop your face to your hands, squealing in delight.

You have something to look forward to now, a date on Friday night, and your heart is filled with joy.

-

Stepping out of the shop, Coffee lets loose a big sigh of relief as Wine steps up next to him. His brothers sharp toothed mouth is pulled into a small frown, making him look older and all the more tired, “Well?” he asks, voice rough and gravelly.

Coffee blinks at him, before beaming, his shirt declaring him a _happy dude!_ As he nods, pleased and excited for the first time in a long time.

Wine grins up at his brother, looking shades younger with the smile that Coffee doesn’t remember seeing underground, “Ah!” he actually _sounds_ happy for once, and Coffee is delighted for it.

His brother had suffered so much underground for him, did questionable, _horrible_ things to keep him safe and if anyone deserved to be happy now, it was Wine.

“Of course, they said yes.” Wine continues in his rough, gravelly voice, “You are _my_ brother after all. They would be stupid to have turned you down.”

Coffee rolls his eye lights as he falls in step with his brother, because of course Wine would think that. Coffee was certain that Wine thought the sun rose and set with him, and really, Coffee wanted his brother to find his own measure of happiness and not worry so much about him.

Still, it was nice to spend time together that wasn’t under the constant fear of death, and under the bright sun of the above ground, Coffee grins and is happy.


End file.
